Great Day

Today was terrific. It was graduation day, moving up day, the passing of the torch. Here in Gulu, the Senior 4's (AKA Seniors) have prefects, students who are in charge of the other students, who make sure they do their chores (here they sweep the rooms every day, pump 20,000 liters of water per day from the bore hole, police and chop the grass in compound by hand), and who act as intermediarys between students and administration. Any of you who've been following this blog are aware of the numerous and explosive student strikes that have occured at other schools this year. My school, St Mary's Lacor, has been trouble free.

I arrived at 8:00 AM, all the desks were in the compound, the students were cleaning the floors, sweeping the walks. Okama was complaining about how lazy today's students were, how difficult. I told him he sounded just like an American teacher. It seems the idea, "we behaved better when we were kids," repects no geographical boundaries.

At 9:00 we went to Catholic Mass where their accomplishments and futures would be blessed. It was a mix of the Roman Catholic ceremony I grew up with and African tribal dance and song. Much of it was beautiful...it was also three hours long.
Now, I haven't been inside a chuch for anything other than a funeral or wedding for a while. In fact, at the last funeral I attended, a friend of mine refused to sit next to me. It seems he was conviced the roof would open and lightning would rain down on me from the heavens and he didn't want to be collateral damage.

Afterwards, there was the ceremony, complete with picture snapping fathers and proud, weeping mothers. I was asked to make a short speech, which included stumbling through my limited Luo. There followed a sumptuous meal of chicken, beef, rice and bo (similar to spinach). The students ate, asked me to pose for pictures, and tried to get me to dance in the classroom-turned-disco that had been set up complete with DJ. Never have the words "I'm too old" come out of my mouth with such a smile.

I started making my exit, saying goodbyes when I was asked into the teacher's lounge. There the Ugandan teachers went over the top thanking me and Sarah for the new library and the girls new dormitory--both built by Invisible Children. I started to dismiss their gratitude, after all I am new to the program, but saw that they needed to be heard. I/we graciously accepted and promised to share their kindness with the rest. On my way home, on the back of a boda, I felt a renewed faith in good work. I felt part of something good.
Would it were always so.